


coral reefs and blueberry pies

by connorswhisk



Series: omgcp friendship week 2020 [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: (poor ransom), Gen, Justin "Ransom" Oluransi is a Delicate Coral Reef, omgcp friendship week 2020, prompt: stress, so naturally - coral reef
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:14:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26464732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connorswhisk/pseuds/connorswhisk
Summary: It’s not like Ransom actively tries to stress himself out. His brain can just get kind of fragile sometimes, and that coupled with the amount of work he gets tends to freak him out a little bit. He can’t help it. It just happens naturally.Normally, in times like these, he’ll turn to Holster for help, but Holster’s been gone the last couple of days at his sister’s wedding, and Ransom doesn’t want to bother him via text message. He’s having fun. He shouldn’t have to worry about anything else.Ransom’s worrying, though. Sometimes he feels like he’s always worrying.
Series: omgcp friendship week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1922701
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	coral reefs and blueberry pies

It’s not like Ransom actively _tries_ to stress himself out. His brain can just get kind of fragile sometimes, and that coupled with the amount of work he gets tends to freak him out a little bit. He can’t help it. It just happens naturally.

Normally, in times like these, he’ll turn to Holster for help, but Holster’s been gone the last couple of days at his sister’s wedding, and Ransom doesn’t want to bother him via text message. He’s having fun. He shouldn’t have to worry about anything else.

Ransom’s worrying, though. Sometimes he feels like he’s always worrying.

It’s just that - ok, he’s got this paper due for his biology class, right? Which wouldn’t be so bad on its own, but he’s also got four chapters of _Les Misérables_ (gross) to read, plus a test to study for, _and_ regular hockey practice without his co-captain, _and_ he’s supposed to have a meeting with Lardo and the coaches to discuss the upcoming games (again, without Holster). Plus, Mom’s been getting on his case for not FaceTiming her enough, so he’ll have to call her, and she’s going to talk for _hours._

Which, like, Ransom loves his mom, of course he does, but he doesn’t _have_ hours to spend.

Needless to say, he’s kind of coral reefing right now, even if only a little bit. Or maybe a lot. He hasn’t decided yet.

He’s just about to start the introduction to his bio paper when someone knocks on the door.

It’s Dex, and he’s carrying his toolbox for some reason. “Hey.”

Ransom raises an eyebrow. “Uhhhh…hey?” He can't for the life of him figure out why exactly Dex is _here_ right now.

“You said you wanted me to look at the fan in here?” Dex gestures towards the ceiling.

“Oh, right,” Ransom says. “Sorry, I forgot.”

Dex shrugs. “It’s fine. I'll probably be kind of loud, though, so you might want to move.”

Ransom feels a little more tension collect in his shoulders. “Sure, sure…I’ll get out of your hair.”

He grabs his laptop and his books and heads downstairs. The best part about the Haus is that there are tons of people! The worst part about the Haus is that there are _tons_ of _people._ His own room is the most ideal place for work, but if Dex is working in there, there’s really no point.

But maybe Ransom lucked out today? Downstairs is pretty quiet right now, the only sound the faint notes of punk music filtering out from under Lardo’s door, so Ransom drops his shit at the kitchen island and sets to work again, feeling somewhat more relaxed.

He only makes it halfway through his first body paragraph before the door to the Haus bursts open, and Chowder, Nursey, Bitty, Ollie, and Wicks walk in, all talking loudly.

Ransom clearly needs to stop jinxing himself.

Thankfully, most of them go into the living room, so at least they’re a little quieter. Bitty comes into the kitchen, smiles at Ransom, and starts fixing to make a pie (but what else would he be making?), and Ransom is grateful for Bitty’s presence, because he’s relatively not that loud, and Ransom always feels a little more anchored when he’s got someone near him while he’s ‘reefing.

Plus, that pie is starting to smell good as _shit._

Ransom continues working, and gets an all right amount of work done before he’s once again interrupted by yelling from the living room. It seems like the boys have started up another MarioKart tournament.

_Of course._ It’s Friday night. They always do that.

At this point, there’s no way Ransom is going to be able to stay focused. He should really just accept that. Despite this, he pulls out his earbuds and tries listening to some of the relaxing lo-fi stuff Holster put on that playlist he made for him, to try and get himself back in the zone. It doesn’t really work, because why would it? Nothing else has tonight.

He feels a tap on his shoulder.

Ransom pulls out his earbuds and looks up. “Hey, Bits, what’s up?”

“Why aren’t you up in your room?” Bitty asks, looking concernedly at Ransom while he waits for the pie to cool, and god _damn,_ it smells amazing. Ransom should really be used to that by now, but apparently it’s impossible to stay accustomed to the Wondrous and Ineffable Baking Talents of Eric R. Bittle.

“Dex is fixing the fan,” Ransom explains. “It gets kinda stuffy in the attic before it gets cold out, and Holster’s been sweating through at least two shirts a day, so Dex said he would take a look at it.”

Bitty hums. “Swamped with work?”

Ransom sighs, feeling his shoulders tighten again. “You have no idea.”

He puts his head down on the counter and mulls over what to do next: the most likely solution seems either to pass out or have a minor panic attack. He’s just never going to get this _done._

“Oh, honey,” Bitty says sympathetically, rubbing a hand on his back. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Probably not,” Ransom groans, his voice muffled in his arms. “Unless there’s any way to shut down MarioKart Fridays, and that shit’s practically in the bylaws.”

“We’ll see about that,” Bitty says determinedly, and Ransom lifts his head and starts to say, “Hey, wait, you don’t have to -,” but he’s already gone.

Ransom shoves his earbuds back in, because he doesn’t need to hear Bitty telling those guys off for him. He’s pretty sure there’ll be a sufficient amount of resistance, but Bitty’s back in the kitchen within two minutes, looking satisfied.

“They said they’ll try for MarioKart Saturday this week instead,” he says, smiling down at Ransom.

Ransom feels a huge wave of gratitude wash through him. “Aw, thanks, Bitty, you’re the best.”

Bitty looks proud. “Well, I do try.”

Ransom swallows. “They’re not, uh - they’re not mad at me, right?”

Bitty’s eyebrows contract. “Oh, sugar, of _course_ they aren’t mad at you. They understand how stressful things can get sometimes. Don’t you worry about it.”

“Ok,” Ransom says, smiling tiredly. “Ok. _Thanks,_ Bits.”

Bitty nods again. “Do you want pie?”

“Is that even a _question?_ ”

Bitty laughs and busies himself at the counter again, and by the time Ransom looks back up from his work, there’s a steaming slice of sugary blueberry pie sitting in front of him.

“Shit, Bitty, you’re a life-saver,” he says, rolling his eyes as he takes a bite. “ _Fuck,_ I swear these things get better every time you make them.”

Bitty looks mollified, but he just pats Ransom’s shoulder again and says, “It’s going to be all right, darling.”

Ransom grins, because he knows he’s right.


End file.
